


you were mine for a night (i don't know how to say goodbye)

by valiantnerd (arareads)



Series: permanent chase [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Self-harming behavior, but like mild?, im not sure what else dudes, just two dudes being bros, very mild again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arareads/pseuds/valiantnerd
Summary: They sit across each other on the kitchen island, each cradling their own cup of warm tea and sipping at them occasionally, wrapped in a silence that grows itchier and itchier as their cups drain and The Conversation draws nearer.Luke clears his throat, anxious despite his resolution. “Listen, I don’t want this to be, like, awkward or anything.”—Or, Luke and Ashton lay their cards on the table after the Angry-Sex-Extravaganza.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin
Series: permanent chase [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123007
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	you were mine for a night (i don't know how to say goodbye)

**Author's Note:**

> haha, what's good, my bros?  
> hope y'all are ✨ vibing ✨, as always.  
> this one serves as a continuation for [_permanent chase_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440783), but i don't think it's absolutely necessary to read that one before reading this so don't feel obligated to.  
> rated T mostly for language and some references to sex + additional warning for descriptions of anxiety and something i label self-harming adjacent behaviors.  
> if any of that makes you uncomfy then i'd strongly advise you find something else to read, babes. 's not worth it to put yourselves over mental turmoil to read this nonsense!  
> if none of that deters you, though, i hope you get some enjoyment out of this!!

They spend a few seconds like that, piled on top of each other without saying anything, and it becomes increasingly apparent in the inopportune post-sex clarity of mind that they _had_ to talk about this.

Ashton doesn’t seem too eager to start the conversation as he stands up wordlessly and leaves the room without even glancing at Luke, who stays in the bed feeling naked in more ways than the obvious one but doesn’t know if it’d be okay for him to wrap himself up in Ashton’s sheets. It’s funny in a really fucked up way, he thinks, that he’s feeling shy about even shifting in the sheets they already messed up.

Still, the bold stupidity of it all doesn’t soothe his anxieties and he starts to spiral, _quick_.

As he sits on the bed, hugging his knees and kind of hunched in on himself as if it’d hide him from whatever it is he fears, staring at the untucked corner of the stupid sheet, he thinks himself into a panic without even realizing it. His mind racing and throwing image after image of memories he can't even contextualize– Ashton angry at him, Ashton kissing him, Ashton hesitating, Ashton calling him a slut, Ashton leaving the room and saying nothing.

It’s not until Ashton sits next to him on the mattress offering him a towel that he snaps out of his trance. He looks at the pristine white towel and the inked arm that holds it– it's soothing and awful all at once, knowing that Ashton is _right there._

“You okay?” Ashton asks, his voice rumbles low and soft and doesn’t help his state of mind as he thinks about leaning back into his chest to hear the words as they resonate within his ribcage; he doesn’t, though, paralyzed by some unnamable fear.

As he ponders over what he should do or say or if he _should_ do or say anything, some logical part of his brain kicks in, after being away all day, and offers the thought that if anyone could understand him and the utter confusion he feels it’d be Ashton himself. So, he glances up from where he was staring absentminded at blood moons and meets those ever-disarming golden eyes and murmurs yet another confession into the room, half-hoping the sounds would vanish before reaching Ashton.

“I’m not sure,” he hears his voice crack at the middle but his brain is too focused on everything else to also shame him for it.

Suddenly Ashton is wrapped around him again and the frostbite of panic that’d been claiming his spine melts away in his permanent warmth. He takes a deep breath and is slightly invigorated by the faint smell of Ashton’s cologne.

The doubt doesn’t go away though.

“Tell you what,” he says into the crook of Luke’s neck as he rubs circles into the small of his back, “there’s a warm bath waiting for you. I’ll make us tea, get you into something comfortable, and then we can sort everything out. Sound good?”

Luke wants to cry but he’s not sure why nor does he think this is a good time for that, so he reigns himself in and nods, shivering a little when Ashton presses a kiss to his shoulder, its softness foreign amongst the phantoms of earlier bites.

“C’mon, I’ll carry you,” Ashton barely detangles himself from Luke’s body before hooking one of his arms behind his knees, lifting him from the bed bridal style with ease and making Luke yelp in surprise, one of his hands finds ground on Ashton’s shoulder instinctively.

Ashton chuckles, it doesn’t feel mocking.

As promised, Ashton lays him down gently in the bathtub and leaves to get the kettle on after pointing out where all the stuff, including the Ashton-Irwin-trademarked citrusy soap, is. He reappears minutes later to leave some clothes – none of Luke’s own –, and disappears again after pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Surrounded by the warmth and after the many gentle touches he’d received, he knows, logically, that he shouldn’t feel like this. Like too much, too big, too loud, too _inadequate,_ and undeserving _._

Panic doesn’t care much for logic though _._

He sits, unmoving, mostly staring at his arms where they're loosely hugging his knees before sinking back into the warm water, trying to focus on the sensations all around him instead of on the frantic thoughts that try and steal his attention— having a breakdown sounds stupid when he can hear Ashton on the floor below shuffling things around in the kitchen; when Ashton hasn’t rejected him, not once in the many years they’d spent around each other, not when he begged him to go to the party, not when he got bratty in the kitchen, not in the bedroom he just carried him out of.

As anxiety burns under his skin the only thing he wants is to make it go away.

He scrubs at his body with his nails and the stupid soap that smelled like Ashton and tried to cleanse himself as best as he could from the mix of his and Ashton’s colognes, the glitter, the makeup, the sweat, the marks; any and all evidence of his passing through the party or Ashton’s bedroom or over and under Ashton. He knew he wouldn’t be able to live with _just_ the memory and, he thought, maybe without the story written all over him he'd have a chance at forgetting.

He was burning pink all over with no plans to stop when Ashton walked into the bathroom.

Luke froze, heavily aware that this wasn’t normal behavior and extremely afraid of what Ashton’s reaction would be. His eyes were fixated on the tile floor and the singular focus let his mind wander towards the fire all over his skin and the pain growing where he was biting down on his lip.

“Lu, baby,” Ashton seems to aim for a soothing tone but Luke can hear the hesitation– or maybe he scours the words for it. “Oh, love,” Ashton continues, closing the distance between them and falling on his knees next to the bathtub, his hands land on each side of Luke’s face and he starts pushing the damp hair away from his forehead, “I shouldn’t’ve left you alone, I’m sorry,” he whispers and it’s quiet and frantic and it makes Luke wish he could calm his worries.

He takes a shallow breath and tries, “’s okay, ‘m just—” he braves a look at Ashton and quickly regrets his choice; whatever half-assed excuse he had in mind flew out the window as soon as he saw the worry all over Ashton’s face, his own eyes fill with tears at the sight, “I don’t— I’m sorry.”

Ashton kisses his temple and murmurs soft reassurance into his hairline. Luke thinks he’ll run out of reasons to hate himself if Ashton keeps covering him in praise and kind words.

Ashton was, apparently, very serious about not leaving him alone and Luke wouldn’t say it out loud but it does help; it’s hard to think about Ashton not wanting him around when he’s right there.

He stays next to the bathtub the whole time, even helps Luke wash his hair with nimble fingers and almost carries him out of the bathtub until Luke makes a snide comment about how _you didn’t fuck me_ that _hard, Ashton, I can walk—_ Ashton snickers but sticks close anyway, the furthest he goes is to the tub to unplug it as Luke combs his hair in front of the mirror just a few feet away.

Luke resolutely tries to ignore the domesticity of it all, especially when Ashton hugs him from behind and just stares at their reflection in the mirror, hiding his smile behind Luke’s shoulder. “I’ll start the tea, yeah? Don’t take too long,” Luke nods as Ashton squeezes him softly and leaves.

He puts the comb down and grips the sink in front of him tightly, insecurities rising in his throat like bile, he shuts his eyes and tries to breathe through the panic settling in his lungs again. He runs his hand through his hair and tugs at it, trying to ground himself in the pain. He spares a fleeting look at himself on the mirror and barely recognizes the figure that stares back in this bathroom that isn’t his and clothes he’s borrowing, he even _smells_ different— he feels like a weird parasitic thing that’s feeding off of Ashton, filling the husk that is – or should be – himself with as much of Ashton as he could. He tries to ignore the implication that he's _empty_ and greedy and draining Ashton of all his good.

He leaves the bathroom before unsettling himself any further and trudges down to the kitchen.

—

They sit across each other on the kitchen island, each cradling their own cup of warm tea and sipping at them occasionally, wrapped in a silence that grows itchier and itchier as their cups drain and The Conversation draws nearer.

It’s stifling enough that Luke doesn’t want it to go on for much longer but he also doesn’t want the moment to end, so he takes a quick second – an ephemeral eternity – to observe Ashton in the dim light of his kitchen, trying to commit everything to memory before Ashton notices he’s being stared at; the tousled hair, the few red and pink marks peeking from underneath his shirt, his posture relaxed against the counter— it almost looks like he enjoys the wretched silence.

He’s once again struck by how homely it feels and it makes the scene that much better and bitter and, not for the first time, he wills himself to forget about it being a one-and-gone thing, tries to convince himself that the prospect of never seeing Ashton like this again doesn’t hurt _that_ bad and steels himself for what he's about to do.

Luke clears his throat, anxious despite his resolution. “Listen, I don’t want this to be, like, awkward or anything,” Ashton looks mildly entertained but Luke plows through, “I didn’t— it wasn’t my… _intention_ for things to go the way they did,” Ashton frowns and it forces him to look elsewhere, his own disappointment grows thicker and almost makes him choke on his words, Ashton's disapproval might make him backtrack, “it feels like we crossed a line and I feel like it was my fault so, I’m sorry, I won’t let it happen again,” He sighs shakily. “Thanks for— uh, the tea and all. I’ll go now, yeah, bye.” He starts to get up but Ashton’s hand on his forearm has him frozen again.

“Sit back down, please,” he’s stern in his pleading. Luke rarely stands a chance against Ashton, much less when his eyes are full of sincerity like that, so he complies.

Ashton’s hand lingers on his skin before wrapping itself in the neutral territory of his own cup, “I don’t think you were honest just now and I don’t think it’s fair, to either of us, to lie.” He starts diplomatically, Luke wants tosay something but Ashton lifts a finger in a well-known _not-now_ gesture, “If you were being honest then that’s fine, I won’t force you to stay or do anything or say anything.” He smiles softly, “But you didn’t exactly fuck yourself so I think I should get to say my piece too.”

Luke merely nods, biting the inside of his cheek. Ashton looks serious again before continuing.

“I— uh, I’m not sure how to say this without sounding like some middle-schooler but I like you, Luke.” Luke lifts his brows but Ashton pays the gesture no mind, “I’ve been in denial for a while ‘cause, I mean, I thought you’d never even look at me much less like me back so, tonight, when you said all those things and fucking came onto me— I wasn’t going to say no." He sighs heavily, "I’m sorry if that wasn’t your intention and all and I’m sorry if I’m making things worse by saying all of this but I don’t think I could hide it anymore… even if I tried.”

Luke doesn’t get a chance to even think about what to say before Ashton is talking again.

“And I know that it wouldn’t be easy, you and me, with the band and the media and everyone meddling and shit, so we’d have to be very careful about it, but I’d be more than willing to figure it out with you. _For_ you. If you wanted to be secret or public or only half-public with, like, only our families and stuff— whatever you wanted, I would do, Luke.”

Ashton opens his mouth again but Luke is quicker this time, feeling revitalized by the rom-com-level confession, he grabs one of Ashton’s hands with both of his own, stunning him into silence. For a second they just sit there looking at each other, both looking for and trying to give reassurance. Luke bites down on his lower lip, still not sure of what to say.

Before, it’d been natural and even rational to lie. It seemed like the only way out so he didn’t stop to consider that Asthon might actually have feelings for him too— and of course he didn’t. Even after hearing it first-hand it sounded _so_ fucking far-fetched; how could someone like Ashton be into someone like him? The physical aspect he could get, really, he worked on his confidence and he knew he’d grown into himself over the years but his mind hadn’t undergone the same makeover. He could dress up and act out and make saucy comments any day but believing himself to be deserving of a love like the one Ashton was _promising_ wasn’t something he ever thought he’d have to do, so he never equipped himself for it.

Why make peace with being loved when you knew yourself to be irredeemably unlovable anyway?

A part of him wished Ashton had just taken the lie and ran with it. Maybe it would’ve been easier to deal with some awkwardness for a couple of months as they got the hang of faking normalcy, maybe it would’ve been easier to just drift apart and never talk about this or anything ever again, maybe it would’ve been easier to live with the memory of it all.

Easier wasn’t _better_ though and if he was honest with himself the mere idea of being with Ashton for more than a night felt indescribably better than anything in the world.

Better than a memory and a mind full of could’ve, would’ve, should’ve– _didn’t_.

And maybe he was right about himself and he didn’t deserve to be loved so tenderly, maybe he didn’t deserve to be loved at all— but to have Ashton and turn him away was an objectively stupid decision. Maybe he wasn’t worthy but he sure as fuck could be and he wasn’t about to close the door he for so long wished would open. He’d make himself into someone deserving of Ashton if it was the last thing he did.

It was the only choice, really.

Luke stares at their hands joined over the marble and decides he’s not going to fuck this up, if not for himself then for Ashton, “You weren’t kidding about liking me, huh,” he teases, mostly to cover up the fact that he’s scared shitless by the situation. Ashton chuckles as his cheeks grow red. “I— Wow, ok. There’s a lot to think about,” Ashton tenses and tries to pull away and this time it’s Luke who doesn’t relent, “Not because I don’t feel the same way. I do. Trust me. I have for— fucking _years_ and basically everything I do has been to get your attention, so, yeah, it’s definitely not that,” Ashton relaxes again as Luke chuckles through his own confession— not as eloquent but definitely earnest, “You’re right though, it probably won’t be easy, but I’d like to try.”

His bravery only lasts him through the speech, so he doesn’t look up to meet Ashton’s eyes.

Silence engulfs them again, the faraway whisper of a clock the only thing filling the void.

Ashton chuckles and the sound has Luke's heart working overtime before he cradles one of his hands and lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss into the skin and dropping his forehead against it, chuckling some more. Luke is forced to look up, wanting in on the joke.

Ashton is just laughing, still holding onto his hand, and it’s heartwarming in a very odd way, Luke thinks.

“Is that a yes?” Luke inquires, keeping his own anxious laughter at bay.

Ashton lifts his head and Luke can see the tears in his eyes as he presses another kiss on the back of his hand; he doesn’t ask why.

Ashton smiles at him, bright and dimpled and it’s enough to unsteady him again.

“Yes. Of course, it’s a yes.” He says, as if it's a fact of life– _the sun comes out every morning, the stars are above us, the trees give us oxygen, I want to try with you._

Luke doesn’t think any words would do his feelings justice so he lifts himself from his seat and kisses Ashton, softly, because it’s what he deserves. Kisses him until he forgets where the frontiers of their bodies are. Kisses him until his own cheeks are wet with no clue as to whose tears they are. Kisses him until he can’t breathe. Kisses him until he’s laughing because it’s the only thing he can do when he’s falling in love quicker than he could even hope to articulate. Kisses him again and again and again, with promises he won’t yet speak on his lips— _We’ll figure this out. We’ll make it work. I’ll do anything for you. I’ll love you for as long as you let me. I’ll become deserving of your love._

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it this far and have some thoughts or keysmashes to share, you could send them to me on [Tumblr](https://valiantnerdtm.tumblr.com), where i'm constantly trying to be one of the cool kids or right here!  
> stay safe, stay sexy, stay alive. 💖


End file.
